


No Alarms and No Surprises

by springstorms



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, LSD, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, bad trip, dilfoyle, dinfoyle - Freeform, hugging/physical comfort, mild bickering, set during s5, vulnerable gilfoyle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:13:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28717857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springstorms/pseuds/springstorms
Summary: Gilfoyle's having a bad drug trip. Dinesh is the one he calls.
Relationships: Dinesh Chugtai/Bertram Gilfoyle
Comments: 9
Kudos: 38





	No Alarms and No Surprises

**Author's Note:**

> It is very hard to write about something you haven't experienced, but I tried to read stories/watch videos about bad trips to better depict Gilfoyle's experience lmao, hope you enjoy!

Dinesh began to rinse the shampoo out of his hair as he hit the final verse of _Bizarre Love Triangle,_ belting the lyrics at the top of his lungs and ignoring Jeff banging on the wall to try and get him to shut up. If he didn't want Dinesh to spend his Saturday nights taking long showers at midnight and singing the entire time he really should've considered that before deciding to be a mole and turn all of his friends against him. Yes, it technically _was_ his fault for getting wasted and telling Jeff about the fridges, but was it really his fault that he was a talkative drunk who'd been excited to have a good friend? Maybe if Gilfoyle wasn't up his ass all the time he wouldn't have felt the need to rant about him so much anyway. 

That was actually the most embarrassing part of the whole situation for him—it hadn't felt like he'd talked about Gilfoyle that much at the time, but he now knew that he'd rambled on like that for at least an hour. He wasn't sure which was worse: the knowledge that Gilfoyle was fully aware how much of his time was spent thinking about him, or the fact that it had only made him obsess over him more. 

Gilfoyle had been cold (even for him) since everything had gone down, and Dinesh hated that he almost missed having someone there to rib him at all hours of the day. It had become a comforting sort of normalcy and trying to figure out how to get Gilfoyle back had taken up a considerable part of his average workday's most boring moments. 

Now, though, Gilfoyle's barbed comments were not only meaner but also rarer, like he could barely stand to expel the energy it took just to open his mouth and speak to him. If anything Dinesh had expected Gilfoyle to try and get back at him but so far there'd been nothing. It left him feeling oddly bereft which just made him madder at himself for caring what fucking _Gilfoyle_ thought. 

He belted through a few Duran Duran songs before deciding he'd had enough, toweling off and going through the rest of his routine. He paused mid-floss to check his phone, squinting when he saw two missed calls from Gilfoyle. Gilfoyle almost never called him, vastly preferring to text (and even then, Dinesh was usually the one starting the conversations). A gnawing feeling of anxiety began to build in his stomach. Was there some kind of emergency? 

Floss forgotten, he speedwalked to his room to call Gilfoyle back, leaning against the closed door and holding his breath. There was a _click,_ then he could hear distant music crackling through the phone and quick breathing. "Dinesh?" 

"Gilfoyle? Are you okay?" 

"I'm not sure, man, it's just—" whatever he said next was cut off by the crackling sound of him moving. 

"Gilfoyle, what's happening? Do you need help?" 

"Can you come over?" He sounded off, his usual aggressive nonchalance replaced by sporadic breaths and a slight waver in his voice. He sounded genuinely afraid. Dinesh wondered if this was some kind of fabricated way to get back at him, to lure him into doing something embarrassing so that Gilfoyle could get even and have something new to gloat about. 

"I mean, I _can..._ " He said, skeptical. "Do you need me to call anyone?" 

"No, just come over. I think I'm having a bad trip, this has never happened before. Please." 

Dinesh's eyebrows rose. He didn't think even Gilfoyle would be able to say please with that level of desperation even if the end result would be Dinesh running naked through the office covered in barbeque sauce. "Shit, dude, okay. I'm on the way. Do you want me to stay on the phone?"

Gilfoyle took a shaky breath. "No, as long as you're here in less than ten minutes. Time's weird, but…" 

"Okay, don't do anything until I get there. Hang on."

On the car ride over Dinesh couldn't help but cycle through potential insults as if on autopilot, dumb stuff like _Wow, Gilfoyle, looks like you're not as good at handling intoxicating substances as you thought_ and _What kind of satanist can't handle a run-of-the-mill drug trip?_ When he thought of the shake in Gilfoyle's voice, though, he didn't think he'd be able to bring himself to say any of that. He didn't know much about bad trips, but he'd read enough reddit stories to know that they could seriously fuck you up if you weren't careful. 

He scrolled through an article about how to help someone through a bad trip in the elevator, trying to commit as many of the tips to memory as he could. Gilfoyle didn't answer the first time he knocked on his door so he knocked louder and heard a loud bang followed by a hesitant "Dinesh? Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me." 

Gilfoyle opened the door slowly, looking suspiciously out like he was afraid Dinesh was somebody else. His hair was disheveled like he'd been running his hands through it and he was wearing sweatpants. There was weird ambient music playing in the background, something that sounded like a drone interspersed with echoing guitar riffs that layered over each other. Dinesh did not think it was the kind of thing he'd want to be listening to during a bad trip, but didn't comment, following Gilfoyle inside. 

"Fuck, you look weird right now." Gilfoyle said, moving to stand across from him and swaying slightly where he stood. 

"Weird how?" 

Gilfoyle squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again. "Like a Picasso painting." 

"What did you take?"

"Three tabs of acid." 

Seeing Gilfoyle so off balance made Dinesh feel off balance, wholly unused to seeing him willingly relinquish even crumbs of vulnerability. Even the startled way Gilfoyle was looking at him was completely unfamiliar. He tried to keep his expression neutral despite the uneasiness and project a calm aura like the article had said, slowly approaching Gilfoyle and placing hands on his shoulders to steer him to the couch. "Sit here for now, okay? Focus on the music. I'm gonna get orange juice." 

Gilfoyle just nodded, staring at him with blown pupils that made his eyes look even larger behind his glasses. 

Gilfoyle's apartment was more normal than Dinesh had expected, though almost everything was either red or black and there was a large tapestry of a stylized goat head in the middle of a pentagram on the wall across from where he'd left him on the couch. There were little objects scattered all over the place, mugs and fidget toys and even a Cthulhu plush that he grabbed to give Gilfoyle something to hold. 

The kitchen was similar but it seemed to be where he'd set up shop for tinkering with tiny screwdrivers and partially dismantled servers taking up the majority of the counter's space. His fridge was severely lacking in much of anything but a quick glance in the cupboards revealed a well-stocked cereal supply. Dinesh filled a mug with an unfamiliar band logo on it with orange juice and returned to see Gilfoyle up and fiddling with the sound system, movements frustrated and imprecise like he couldn't figure out how to get it off. 

Dinesh set the juice and the plush down and slowly leaned in next to Gilfoyle to look at the speakers, ignoring the confused way Gilfoyle was staring at him. "It's a new system." he murmured, hands still frozen in place where he'd been fiddling uncertainly with the knobs, his usual technological savvy knocked off balance. 

"I can figure this out. You want it off?"

"Yes, it sounds like a bunch of fucking flies are swarming around me or something, it's freaking me out _."_

It did sound a bit like that, with the buzzing drones sounding less like experimental ambient music and more like someone trying desperately to create a soundscape out of objectively grating sounds. Dinesh avoided the urge to make some comment about Gilfoyle being the one to put the music on in the first place and focused on turning it off. He gently took Gilfoyle's phone to disconnect the bluetooth, immediately handing it back when he saw the way Gilfoyle's eyes widened like he immediately regretted letting it go.

"We're going to go sit back down now, okay?" He said, leading Gilfoyle back to the couch. Dinesh handed him the orange juice and he took a few sips without comment before squeezing his eyes shut and stilling, juice wobbling dangerously in his hand. 

"I still hear it. The buzzing. It's not the music." 

"I don't hear anything, Gilfoyle. It's just the acid. No buzzing." 

Gilfoyle handed him the orange juice and reached up to cover his ears like that would have any effect, shaking his head like a dog covered in water. "This is the fucking worst." He said, sounding very much like someone trying and failing to stay calm. 

"You've done this before. You know it's only temporary." Dinesh said desperately, still trying to say everything the article had suggested because he really had no idea what to do otherwise. 

"Yeah but this has never happened before and I've taken higher doses, fuck, why does your face fucking _look like that?"_

"No need to bring the way I look into this." Dinesh said, a feeble attempt at a joke that didn't even seem to reach Gilfoyle, who was still staring at him like he had multiple heads. For all he knew that's what he _did_ look like to him. 

"I can't believe I miss your usual face." He said quietly, mostly to himself. 

"My face is right here. I promise it's normal even if you don't see it that way right now." 

"No." Gilfoyle said simply, still looking at him warily. "It's really not." 

"Well it will be, then." Dinesh said, grabbing the plush from where he'd set it and handing it to him. "Here, look at this." 

Gilfoyle snorted, mumbling something about my being a child before beginning to turn it this way and that in his hands anyway, fiddling with the wings and rubbing the soft fur, seemingly at least partially soothed by the distraction. 

"Where'd you even get that?" Dinesh asked, finding the question innocuous enough until Gilfoyle's expression darkened.

"Tara." 

"Oh…..and how is she?" 

Gilfoyle tried to pin him with one of his usual arresting stares but the effect was damaged by the way his shoulders hunched up and his fingers grasped the plush hard enough to turn his knuckles white. "Can't trust anyone." was all he said.

"Uh...sorry I brought that up." Dinesh said.

"Yeah, you are sorry, but not for me." Gilfoyle said darkly, fingers twitching around the plush. "You're sorry because you know you're included in 'anyone'."

Dinesh suddenly felt very unsteady. "I don't think we should talk about this right now." 

"Why?" Gilfoyle leaned closer. "Because I'm tripping balls and can feel all of my organs moving around? Or because you were hoping I'd forget what you did and we'd go back to normal?" 

"Uh, the first one, mostly." Dinesh said, evading his persistent gaze. "I'll talk to you about it, but not right now. I didn't think you even wanted to."

"Well I _do,_ and I do _right now."_ Gilfoyle said, eyes narrowing. "I can deal with it. I'm dealing with it." 

"Clearly." Dinesh said, wondering how exactly to navigate _this._ Normally he'd want to at least try and defend himself, but he really didn't want to escalate things with Gilfoyle right now. "He got me drunk and I rambled about you because you're constantly fucking with me, which you _know,_ but it all worked out anyway. You don't have to worry about it. I'm not going to do it again." 

"What matters is that you did it to begin with." 

"I can't take that back, Gilfoyle." 

"Exactly, you can't, which is why I know I can't trust you. Everybody's always fucking lying about something because the human race is disgustingly selfish by design. Neither of us are exceptions, but at least I'm honest about it." He was speaking erratically now, gesticulating broadly and having trouble leaving his eyes on one spot for too long. Dinesh was not used to him talking this much and he was especially not used to any deviance at all from his usual monotone way of speaking. 

"Is it selfish for me to be here right now trying to make sure you don't jump out a window or freak out about tripping forever or something?"

Gilfoyle stared at him. "Why the fuck would you say that?" 

Dinesh's stomach dropped. "Say what?" 

"Tripping forever." He grit his teeth. "Why the fuck would you say that?" 

"It's a thing that people _always_ freak out about when they trip—but the whole point is that it doesn't actually happen!" Dinesh stammered. 

"There are stories—psychosis can take effect, there's literally a name for it. Fucking _fuck,_ that's why this time feels different." 

"Gilfoyle, it's not! You're spiralling because you've convinced yourself it's true, but I'm telling you it's not!" 

Gilfoyle put his head in his hands. "The fucking _buzzing._ I'm gonna—" he got to his feet on shaky limbs and practically sprinted to the kitchen. Dinesh could hear the sound of vomiting a second later. 

" _Jesus Christ."_ he muttered, already halfway to the kitchen. Gilfoyle was hunched over the sink, shoulders around his ears and faucet already running to clear the sink. He didn't move from where he was, glaring at Dinesh like he didn't trust him to come closer. Dinesh approached like he was a wild animal, holding a hand out that he rested between Gilfoyle's shoulder blades. Gilfoyle let him, dropping his head. His hair fell around his face and his glasses almost slipped off. 

Dinesh slowly moved his hand up and down Gilfoyle's back in soothing motions, trying to ignore how alien it felt to be allowed to touch him at all, especially in such a tender way. Eventually Gilfoyle shifted away, heaving deep breaths and getting himself a glass of water. He seemed to get distracted halfway through, leaning forwards to stare at the water coming out of the faucet. Dinesh filled the glass for him and turned the water off. "You should drink all of that, you might be dehydrated." 

Gilfoyle nodded and drank, shoulders sagging. "I'm resigned to it now." He finally said. 

"Resigned to it?" 

"To being stuck like this." 

"Gilfoyle, you're not stuck like this." Dinesh said patiently, filling the water back up once Gilfoyle finished. 

"I'm stuck like this, I might as well make peace with it. I'm never going to see a non-fucked up looking face again." 

"I don't know how to convince you that it's going to be _fine."_

"You can't." He said simply. "Usually on acid I'm like a fucking _machine._ I built most of Son of Anton on acid, there shouldn't be any reason why I can't fucking function right now." 

"You're not supposed to trip with bad shit on your mind. Clearly Richard and HR being on your ass plus you being pissed at me is part of why you're upset right now." 

Gilfoyle glared. "I'm not upset." 

"You were literally just ranting about how you can't trust me or anyone else." 

"A fact I've known for years." 

Dinesh sighed. "Fine, then, if you're not going to be convinced, I'm going to try and distract you. Come on." Gilfoyle hesitantly followed him back to the living room. 

"Can you handle the tv right now?" Dinesh asked. 

"Not if there's more buzzing." Gilfoyle groaned. 

"Hang on, I'm gonna cast something. Tell me if you don't like it." Dinesh cast a calming ASMR-style video of wind rustling through leaves, watching Gilfoyle closely. 

"No. Off." He said after a moment, shaking his head rapidly.

"Shit, okay." Dinesh clicked it off. "What was wrong?" 

"There was whispering. Are you fucking with me?" 

"No, I swear." 

"Fuck." Gilfoyle pulled his socked feet up on the couch to sit criss-crossed. The only thing that doesn't sound weird right now is your voice." 

"Do you want me to keep talking?"

Gilfoyle sighed. "Yeah."

Dinesh let a smile creep over his face. "Are you giving me permission to workshop my stand-up routine?" 

Gilfoyle's eyes shut for a moment like he was gathering strength. "I guess so." 

Twenty minutes later Dinesh was right in the middle of his bit about the inflatable tube men at car lots, flailing his arms around in an attempt to capture their movement, when Gilfoyle covered his eyes. "Woahh. No more moving. Please." 

"I was about to get to the punchline." Dinesh said, but dropped his arms anyway. "What about normal moving?" 

"Your limbs look fucking freakish right now. Like you're going to start twisting around like Pennywise." 

Dinesh moved back to sit next to him. "No more stand-up, then?" 

Gilfoyle shook his head. "Everything's too much. You don't look solid." He reached out a finger to poke Dinesh's chest, then curled a hand in the fabric. "I'm just gonna…" he said, more to himself than to Dinesh, before pulling him in and wrapping one arm around his shoulders, the other still clutching his shirt. "You _feel_ solid." He said, voice muffled by Dinesh's shoulder. 

"Umm...okay, I'm going to let you keep doing this, but only because I'll be able to blackmail you with it later." 

"Nobody will believe you." Gilfoyle said simply, burying his face further into Dinesh's shoulder. 

Dinesh let him, unable to deny that it was surprisingly nice and pretty sure that anything that seemed to lessen the stimulation freaking Gilfoyle out was probably a good thing. 

Gilfoyle moved his face up into his neck and inhaled deeply. "You smell good when you're not drenched in cologne." 

Dinesh didn't respond, then Gilfoyle went, "Did I just say that?"

"Yeah…"

"Oh." Gilfoyle didn't say anything else, so Dinesh lowered a hand back to his spine, resting it there and rubbing gentle circles into his thin shirt. A few minutes went by in silence and Gilfoyle's breathing felt slower than it had seemed all night, which Dinesh counted as a win. "You can talk more. No jokes. No stories."

"What do you want me to do, name my top ten movies or something?" 

" _Yes._ Do that." 

_John Wick, The Matrix, The Social Network, Interstellar, Back to the Future…._ Does it have to be ones you know? Can I name Pakistani ones?"

"I can't make fun of Pakistani ones because I haven't seen them. By the way, your other picks are basic."

"They're basic because they're universally understood as good!" 

"Basic." 

"I'm not going to keep hugging you if you're going to be a dick."

"John Wick is good." 

"That's what I thought. Just because _your_ favorite movies are all edgy German snuff films or whatever…"

"Only some of them. Don't talk about snuff films right now." 

"Sorry. What normal movies are good enough for your oh-so-amazing list?" 

Gilfoyle thought for a moment. " _V for Vendetta. The Two Towers, Pacific Rim."_

"Really? _Pacific Rim_?"

"Cool monsters. Good writing." he said matter-of-factly, leaving it there. He let go of Dinesh's shirt, flattening his palm. "Your chest vibrates when you talk." he observed. 

Dinesh laughed slightly awkwardly, feeling considerably out of his depth. "Uh, yup." 

A dog started barking in the apartment over and Gilfoyle tensed, tightening his grip around Dinesh. "What the fuck is that?"

"It's just a dog, man, it's fine." 

"Why is a dog freaking me out right now." It was more of a statement than a question, as was most of what he said.

"Because you're tripping? That's kinda how it works." 

"I never get like this." Gilfoyle said almost aggressively, grip tightening even further. 

"So you've said." 

Gilfoyle's breathing had picked up again, breath hot against Dinesh's ear. "Why won't it stop?" 

"Its owner is probably just getting home, or something. It'll stop."

It wasn't stopping, and even Dinesh had to admit that it was pretty loud. Gilfoyle huffed a frustrated breath.

"Just close your eyes. Don't focus on what you see or hear, focus on what you feel. Focus on me and how fantastic I smell." 

"Fuck you." Gilfoyle said, inhaling deeply anyway. 

"The first few hours are usually the worst, anyway, right? You'll be out of it soon."

"No, because I'm stuck like this." 

Dinesh groaned. "You're really not. And I'll say I told you so when you end up fine." 

"Nope. Do you still hear the dog?" 

"No. Do you?" 

"Yeah. Fuck." Despite Gilfoyle's panic he seemed mildly calmer now that he had Dinesh to hang on to, pouring most of his anxiety into squeezing him so tightly that it was slightly hard to breathe. 

"I'm just going to name things you like until you realize that you're fine and all of these things are still going to be a part of your life. Cereal. Working on Son of Anton without tripping to do it. Napalm death and other weird bands you like. The weird beers you like. The weird movies you like. The normal movies you like. Getting to keep working on whatever you're building in the kitchen. Getting to shit on me at work more. Getting to watch Richard jump every time your bitcoin alert plays. Napping. Ejaculation." 

"You know me so well." Gilfoyle deadpanned, but his breathing had slowed down a little. 

"Yeah, well." 

"Is this uncomfortable for you?"

"I mean, my arm is asleep." 

"I meant being here for this in general." 

"Oh. No. It's fine." Dinesh stifled a yawn. 

"You're tired." 

"Well it _is—"_ he checked his phone—"almost four AM. So yes. But it's fine. Seriously."

"Here." Gilfoyle partially entangled himself and pushed Dinesh back so that he was reclined instead of sitting upright, a slightly more comfortable position. Before Dinesh could speak Gilfoyle had reattached himself, scooting lower so that he was leaning against his side. "I can't let go right now. Don't say anything."

"I wasn't going to. Whatever helps." Dinesh gave an awkward laugh. 

"So you'll stay?" 

"Overnight? To sleep?" 

"I can't sleep right now, but _you_ can if you let me stay like this so that I don't completely lose it. Fuck. I swear this has never happened before." 

"I'll stay."

Gilfoyle's breathing continued to even out. "Okay. This doesn't mean I trust you." 

Dinesh huffed a tired laugh. "Okay, Gilfoyle." 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> twt: onlybieeding


End file.
